and counting
by xporcelain
Summary: When I fall asleep I feel you with me / until I fall asleep and you are with me. — Gerza.


**title:** and counting  
><strong>dedication:<strong> to, uhh, Lights. COZ HER NEW ALBUM IS BEAUTIFUL AND OMFGHJFF

**notes:** these days, i can only write things inspired by songs.  
><strong>notes2:<strong> hey sup i specialize in writing short things that piss people off _with_ dah shortness and unanswered questions. also, this couple is too beautiful for words. LIKE LIIIIIIGHTSSSS~

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><p><em>and counting_

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><p>.<p>

.

.

Forty days.

That was when she'd see him.

It was when he'd be set free.

Apparently, after seven years of emotionlessly sitting in a jail cell, _they_ declared you free early on "good behavior."

In other words, _they_ assumed you'd eventually die on your own.

(she decided she really hated _them_)

What _they_ hadn't expected, however, was for the missing members of Fairy Tail to show up. More specifically— _her_.

And maybe, they could have canceled everything—

Burnt the papers—

Kept him locked up—

If her fellow exquip mage hadn't told her about it three days after everyone returned.

She sighed, sitting on her room's window ledge and vacantly staring outside. Her mind was a jumbled mess of thoughts and emotions, and it would have given her a headache if it weren't so important.

The Master had quickly jumped onto everything, trying to strike a deal with the Council. She couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt. This was all being done for her, really.

Forty days.

Everything would be decided by then.

If he was set free or not.

None the less, she'd still see him.

Glancing at the clock, she groaned, hiding her face in her hands.

Now thirty-nine days and counting.

.

.

.

When she fell asleep that night, she could have sworn she felt an arm around her waist and a soft pressure at her back.

.

.

.

Twenty-five days and counting, and a possible outcome occurred.

He would have to join the guild, be constantly monitored, weekly reports, all that nonsense.

She took it all with wide eyes.

.

.

.

Twenty-four days and counting, and everything actually sank in.

Her emotions were completely haywire—

Shock that it was actually happening.

Grateful that her practically _father_ was going through all of the trouble.

Excitement that she might get to keep him this time.

Anger that the Council wouldn't just _give __him __to __her __already_.

And anxiety that it might all fail.

She sat in her room until the twenty-third day.

.

.

.

Fourteen days and counting, and it was official.

Everything they'd been working so hard for.

He'd be coming to Fairy Tail.

(she let out a breath she didn't know she'd been holding)

.

.

.

Two days and counting, and the emotion she hadn't felt before hit her—

She was _nervous_.

Though it may have only felt like a couple months for her, for him it was _years_.

_He was now seven years older than her._

Seven years in prison, with no kind faces… what if he'd changed? What if he'd remembered and it had escaped the guard's attention? What if he was mad at her for abandoning him for so long?

And what would she _say_? What if he didn't _want_ to go with her?

She was on the god damned _train_ to Era. This was _not_ the time to be worrying about this!

Looking across the cart at her "emotional support," she rushed out her problems, slight flush on her cheeks.

(_Titania __never __had __problems—_

_never_)

The white haired mage smiled, a delicate shrug on her shoulders.

"Do whatever you feel like doing when the time comes."

She had a feeling that if she did what she _felt __like __doing_, _she__'__d_ get arrested for public indecency.

.

.

.

No more days left to count, and she felt a sting at the back of her eyes.

They were standing in front of the prison, the doors closed behind him. And they were alone.

It looked like he hadn't aged at all, as if seven years hadn't passed, and it literally knocked the breath out of her chest.

Meeting his eyes, the stinging sensation moved forward. His eyes were wide as saucers, lips parted in deep breaths. There was something in his face she couldn't figure out—

—but it still left her as loss for words.

"_Erza—_"

So she settled for throwing her arms around him and hiding her face in the crook of his neck.

His own arms quickly and tightly wound around her waist, his face buried in her hair. She felt shaking, and it took her a moment to realize she was crying. Feeling a soft rubbing on her back, she was suddenly glad she hadn't worn her armor.

"Why do you always cry for me?"

But the thickness in his voice had her grip tightening.

.

.

.

Laying in bed that night, she thought back thirty-nine days, and the touch she'd felt that night.

It must have been a premonition.

A soft smile tugged at her lips.

No days left to count, and she was more than content.

.

.

.

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><p><strong>endnotes: <strong>huh. this actually isn't very good. but i had fun writing it, and it made me tingly inside, so i'm posting it anyways.  
><strong>endnotes2: <strong>why didn't Jellal appear to age? eh, we all have our own theories -dontkillme-


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